Hold Me Close

No matter what the muggle tests revealed, she was going to carry this child, and be its mother, no matter who stood by her side.

Hermione finished her shower, and dressed quickly, heading downstairs to see who was up. To her surprise, Ron was already there waiting with a steaming mug of tea and a large breakfast of eggs and bacon and toast.

“Good morning, you,” Ron said, pointedly more chipper than he had been the previous night.

“Good morning,” She replied, taking the mug he was handing her.

“Care to join me for a bit of breakfast before you go rushing off?” He asked her, motioning for the seat next to him.

“Of course,” she replied settling into the seat. She began to nibble on a piece of toast, when her nostrils were simply invaded with the smell of bacon. She tried to ignore it, not wanting to draw attention to herself yet again, but upon swallowing a bit of egg, she retched, and made it to the sink in record time, emptying her stomach there.

“Bloody hell, Hermione, what has gotten into you?” Ron asked her, looking both concerned and disgusted.

“I think I am just nervous about telling my parents I might never come home again after this trip,” Hermione replied, only half lying. Ron’s face fell. Apparently he hadn’t realized the magnitude of danger they were putting themselves into, by helping Harry to locate and destroy the last of the horcruxes. He patted her shoulder, and suddenly, neither of them felt much like eating.

“I really better go, Ron. Tell everyone I said goodbye, will you?” she asked him. He pulled her close to him, gazing into her eyes.

“Only if you say it to me first,” he said, huskily.

“Goodbye,” she said, and kissed him softly on the lips.

Seconds later, she had apparated to her parent’s back yard, which was fenced in. She did not want to be seen by any unwitting muggles who happened to be out and about this morning. She walked up to the door and let herself in, just as she had done thousands of times before. Her mother and father were in the kitchen, her mother making breakfast. There was no bacon this time, and Hermione was secretly relieved, wondering what else might cause her to vomit on the spot aside from bacon and flowers. Her mother’s eyes lit up as she walked into the room, and she was enveloped in a tight hug. Her father stood up and hugged her as well,

“Hermione dear, how are you?” her father asked her, kissing her on the top of her head.

“I am well dad, and yourself?” she asked him back.

“I am great, we’re both great, we’ve missed you,” he replied, not taking his eyes off of her.

“I decided to come home for a few days. There are some terrible things happening in my world right now, and for that I have decided not to return to school for my final year. I know that is not what you want to hear, but if we do not win this war, then there would be no reason for me to continue my education. I am confident in my abilities, and I know that if we are to achieve our task, I will be able to compete my education,” she said, daring to look at them

“But Hermione, what if you do not achieve your task?” her mother asked her, her expression that of worry. Hermione looked at the floor. She did not know how to tell her mother and father that if they did not achieve their task it would mean death.

The devastated look in her father’s eyes told her he had already figured out the answer. Both of her parents grabbed her and the family of three stood there hugging for what seemed like an eternity. Hermione was finally the one to break away.

“I’ll be here for a few days before we leave on our mission,” she said in what she hoped was a comforting tone. “I only have one personal errand I need to run this morning, and then for the next three days I’ll be here, and we can do things like old times,” she finished, looking back and forth from the two before her.

“Alright well have a spot of breakfast and get your errand taken care of, so we can begin a nice little holiday together,” her mother said, squeezing her hand.

“Actually, Mum, I’ve eaten already,” she lied. She knew she needed to eat more, but her nerves were claiming her urge to eat, and she knew until she went to the clinic and got some answers she would not be able to eat again.

Hermione grew up in this town, so she knew exactly where to go. Really it was a matter of mustering the courage to go there. She walked up the quiet street, the clinic looming in the distance. When she reached it, she stopped

“Pull it together, Hermione. You can do this. You have to do this,” she told herself.

With a surge of confidence, she pulled open the glass door to the clinic. She looked around and took in her surroundings. The room smelled like any normal muggle waiting room did. There were several pink cushioned chairs, and a few tables with magazines on them In one corner stood a massive aquarium with several types of tropical fish, and in another corner were some small chairs and children’s toys and books. There were several other people in the clinic, some mothers with children, some very noticeably pregnant women, some women alone, and a few couples.


Hermione walked over to the reception desk and proceeded to sign herself in. She’d converted some gold into muggle currency before Bill and Fleur’s wedding, so she could pay for anything she might need while visiting her parents. She looked at the form, and decided it would be best to use a fake name, so as to avoid anyone recognizing her name. She had never been to this clinic before, and sincerely hoped no one she knew came in for an appointment. She settled on the name Jane, as it was her middle name, and chose what she knew to be a common muggle surname, Kent.

Hermione took a seat in one of the chairs, and tried to focus on a magazine. After what seemed like an eternity, they called the name Jane Kent up to the reception desk.

“I’m going to need you to fill out these forms, dear,” the receptionist said, handing Hermione some medical history forms.

Hermione sat back down in the chair and studied the forms. It would be best to be honest about everything besides the names, she thought. She diligently filled out the forms and took them back up to the reception desk. The receptionist smiled at her warmly.

“The doctor will see you shortly,” she said.

Hermione took her seat yet again, her stomach twisted in what seemed like a million knots. She stared at the floor for what felt like an hour, when the nurse called her name to go back to the examination room. She glanced at the clock. It had only been ten minutes. Chiding herself, Hermione followed the nurse.

Once they reached the examination room, the nurse reached into a cupboard and pulled out a very thin paper hospital gown.

“Strip down and put this on. There is a blanket on the table to cover up, and I will return shortly to get your vitals,” the nurse said calmly. Hermione obeyed, and removed all of her clothing, and draped the paper gown over her frame. She sat on the high examination table and draped the blanket across her legs, painfully aware of how short the gown was. After a few moments the nurse returned.

She checked Hermione’s temperature, her blood pressure, and her heart rate. After making writing down the figures on Hermione’s newly created chart, she turned to her and spoke.

“What brings you to us this morning dear?” The nurse asked her, sweetly.

“I took a pregnancy test and it was positive,” Hermione practically whispered.

“Alright, the doctor will be in shortly to do a sonogram, which will confirm your pregnancy, and also give us some idea as to how far along you are,” the nurse said, she carried the chart to the door, and placed it into the box hanging on the outside of it. She closed the door and Hermione was alone in the room.

A few moments passed and Hermione heard a soft knock as the door opened, and a pretty young muggle woman stepped inside.

“Hello, Jane,” the woman said. “I’m Dr. Parker. Let’s just get you set up for a sonogram here,” she said taking a seat on the round, wheeled stool. She typed Hermione’s information into the computer that was used to take sonograms, and she instructed for Hermione to lay back, with her feet in the stirrups, and her bum on the edge of the table. Hermione complied, and Dr. Parker prepared the probe that Hermione had known was commonly used as opposed to direct stomach instruments in early pregnancy. Hermione let out a tiny gasp as the doctor inserted the probe into Hermione.

Dr. Parker turned the instrument this way and that, and tilted it up and down, to get images from Hermione’s entire uterus. She used the mouse to mark lines here and there, and occasionally stopped to type some numbers. Hermione lay there, more nervous than she had been in her life. After a few moments, the doctor spoke.

“Well dear, you are most definitely pregnant,” the doctor stated. Hermione already knew that, the wizard pregnancy potion was never inaccurate. “The embryo appears to be at about eight weeks gestation,” the doctor continued. The color completely drained from Hermione’s face. This was the answer she was dreading.

“A-are you certain?” she asked, her voice cracking

“Well yes,” the doctor said. “It’s okay dear, you are still within the allowed time frame for abortion, if that’s what you want. In your circumstances, it is legal, as you are underage, but we will need the consent of a parent or guardian before-“

“No, no. I don’t want an abortion,” Hermione said quietly. “I just didn’t realize I was that far along,” she practically whispered.

“Well that should take care of you for now, but I would like to see you back in a month,” the doctor said, squeezing Hermione’s hand. The doctor turned to leave, and Hermione dressed quickly, tears shining on her face.

When Hermione was finished dressing, she left the room and made her way to the reception desk to pay and make the appointment. She knew she would not be coming back for the appointment, but she made it to appease the doctor.

What was she going to do now? She thought as she returned to her home. Her mother and father were not home when she returned, and there was a note on the refrigerator, telling her they had gone to buy some groceries.

Hermione crept up to her bedroom, and rummaged through her trunk looking for something. She stared at the parchment before her, fear coursing through her entire body. It was now or never, she thought, as she began to read the note.